Inspiration

     The callus

(on the left side of

the third crease)

on my

middle finger

mimics the twisted balloon-animal lines

of poets

again and again

hoping for inertia. or

to flay in the

subatomic skull section

of their retinas.

forearm twitching, i summon

the livers and large intestines of letters

to machinate,

make me good;

my forefinger blistered,

and “pilot” worn off of

an arid pen.